Page 16 of The Masks We Burn
“Unless said person ends up needing me later. Then the pain was worth it to watch their last hope—me—disintegrate in their face.”
William still hasn’t moved from the door but eyes me warily. I find myself wondering what’s going through his mind. If he’s regretting coming at all. The thought spikes some panic in my heart, making it hammer harder in my chest, but I want to be honest. I have to if this is going to work. “I don’t like you. I don’t plan on liking you. But I do believe we can be of mutual benefit to each other.”
His thick brows raise as he watches me sit down and open my foiled salmon. The smell makes my stomach growl, and I don’t bother waiting for him to join, stabbing my fork into the tender meat.
The air grows thicker the few seconds he continues to stand at the door, silently watching as I take a bite. Flavors explode in my mouth, and I close my eyes, internally patting myself on the back. Miss Jean would be proud.
“Well, with you moanin’ like that, I guess I have to see how it tastes.”
My face flashes with heat as he pushes from the wall and saunters to the opposite side of the square table. “I did not moan.”
“But you did. Got me regrettin’ I didn’t take you up on that offer back then.”
“Fuck off.”
“I will.” He casually unwraps his foil with a smirk on his face, completely ignoring the fact my heart is now in my throat. “But first I want to see what you have to offer.”
I stab into the green beans a little more aggressively than I mean to. Anger and something I don’t want to acknowledge swirls beneath my sternum. It feels like he has the upper hand and that pisses me off. It puts me at a disadvantage, and I refuse to be at his mercy, especially since I need him long term while he just needs me to get in this club.
A club I still know nothing about.
Ugh.
I bite my tongue and suck down a piece of my ego for one second. “I have brunch with my parents this weekend. I’ll ask my dad to extend you an invitation to Orlov.”
He nods slowly, twirling a piece of salmon, inspecting it from every angle before I assume deeming it fit and popping it into his mouth. His eyes close and the muscle in his jaw clenches, causing me to snap my face away. This would be easier if he wasn’t so appealing or if I could stand to be near him.
Those are the worst types of people—the ones you want to slap and fuck at the same time.
“I figured as much. But what can I do for you?”
I chew on the inside of my lips, nerves suddenly making my throat dry. After an unsatisfying drink of water, I gather my wits. Screw it. The worst he can say is no.
Placing both my elbows on the table, I narrow my gaze and tilt my chin up, rushing the words out. “I need you to fake as my fiancé.”
William doesn’t make a sound, and instead mirrors my body language. The seconds that pass are long and thick, pulsating like the dick you see in hentai. I shift in my seat but try my best to remain emotionless.
“Will there be sex involved?”
“Absolutely fucking not.” I want to be shocked he’s asking, but I’m not. Then he takes a shot at my ego.
“Then I’m in.”
“Okay, first of all, fuck you.” Keeping my composure is past what I’m capable of right now, and I slam my fork on the table. “Believe me, not one ounce of me wants to have any kind of sexual activity with you.”Lie. “But why did it seem like that was your only term?”
William’s smug smile sits firm on his mouth as he takes another bite. “Because it was.”
“Why?”
He shrugs and it takes my entire focus not to flip his dinner in his lap. “I told you a long time ago. You look clingy. Hell, you know what? You want to be honest, so should I. Everything I said to you back then was truly how I felt and what I picked up on. That’s why I’ve never apologized. Now was it my place to point that out? No. And for that, my bad. But I don’t care for you any more than you do me. So, yes. I’ll be your fake fiancé for whoever it is you need, becauseIneed what you’re offering.”
The anger seeping from my pores is palpable. But I decide to feel it full force, remembering every tic in my pulse, the burn behind my eyes, and the heaviness in my gut. I memorize it all and store it away. It’s one of the moments in your life you use to help thicken your shell, which I desperately need.
I pick my fork back up and nod, keeping my eyes on my food. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Then, after a long stretch of awkward silence, we make a plan.
